Lonesome Dove
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day eight hundred and seventy-seven: top 16, number 5: Before there were three, there was one, and before there was Trinity, Quinn worked alone.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 41st cycle. Now cycle 42!_

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><p><em><strong>INTRODUCING "CHEAT SHEET" - <strong>If you want to know ahead of time when a certain series will be updated next, just reassemble the link below and check out the list, save it, print it, bookmark it, whatever you need!  
>Go to: <span>gleekathon [dot] tumblr [dot] com [slash] cheatsheet<span>_

_** UPDATED WITH CYCLE 42 CHEAT SHEET **_

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><p><strong>Countdown cycle #4 - <strong>Yes, it's that time again, where I select 16 favorite things (characters, ships, friendships...) from Glee and give them each a ficlet, and a chapter fic for #1. The previous countdown cycles, if you want to check them out, were c10 [days 190-210], c25 [days 505-525], and c29 [days 589-609]. Like the last countdowns, the #1 story is split in 3 blocks, the chapters posted on Tuesdays and Wednesdays over these three weeks, with #16 to #2 from Thursdays to Mondays.  
><strong>Coming in at #5...<strong>

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><p><strong>"Lonesome Dove"<br>(Future) Quinn - Brittany/Santana  
>Trinity series #11 (following 'Idle-Handed Breaker') <strong>

This could have been the night she gave it up. She'd caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she'd thought… what a far cry from the teenage queen from Lima, Ohio's McKinley High. Her blonde hair, so meticulously hidden had begun to show itself from underneath the knitted black hat. Her face had grown paler than it once was, and this she attributed to blood loss.

Had she known this job wasn't safe, deep down? She must have had a reason to lift her old friend's ID from her bag the night before. She hadn't expected to run into either of them… Brittany, and Santana… It'd been ages since she'd seen them, but it wasn't as though she didn't know they lived in New York, that she could end up running into them. And then she had, and she'd accepted Brittany's invitation to come and see Santana at the bar where she worked that night. Being with them, it was odd how time could just disappear and yet show itself so evidently. They had all changed, grown, but they were still those three girls, somewhere inside them.

Then at one time the opportunity had shown itself, so easily, especially for her. In record time, the blonde's New York ID was in her hand, photographed, and then returned in its place, never missed. Later, back in her hotel room, Quinn laid on her bed, looking at the image on her phone. She had the address memorized in an instant; she'd spent much more time just looking at the picture in the corner… She'd missed… oh, not just her, not just Santana, but really… people, who knew her, cared for her. There would be those moments, on her own, where she would realize that this was what she was: on her own. She had become isolated, in this work she did, despite herself. But then she'd just blink, shake her head and move along with whatever she had to do.

She couldn't keep the picture, couldn't leave traces, and she'd erased it… It wasn't like she was staying. As soon as this job was done, she was leaving again, that was her rule. She'd made her choice, no second guesses. The next day, she was making her move.

She never should have gone in; she knew that a lot sooner than she cared to admit. She did get scared sometimes, she was only human, but she could push past it… not this time. But she had made it this far, and turning back now could be just as dangerous as going forward, so… she'd gone forward. For a while she'd been reassured, things were going right again. She'd found the item she had come for, secured it in her case, and now all she had to do was get out. She'd be on a plane within the hour.

Her calculations been spot on, she knew that, but there was such a thing as an unplanned turn of events. How bad that could be would depend on the situation. And in this case, her initial bad feeling told her this wasn't going to end well. Her heart was ramming in her chest the whole time, but when she'd felt a hand grip her shoulder and twist her around, she wondered if a human heart could break a ribcage from beating too hard.

She'd acted instantly, using the element of surprise and what amount of self-defence she knew in order to break free. Adrenaline had definitely kicked in as she decided her escape route and went for it. As fast as she sprinted, she could hear the guy chase behind her, shouting… He wasn't alone, she realized, and that only made her run harder. One guy she could outrun, but more… Did he have a gun? She hadn't had time to notice, but she could imagine he would.

She had outpaced him, she knew. He couldn't keep up, and that gave her a boost, hope that she could make it. Running blind as she was, her plans were in her head, and then she remembered: a weak spot, a window in the office just ahead, where the jump would be short enough to be doable. The door being unlocked had only made her more hopeful, maybe more clueless. She'd opened the window and, hearing steps and, yes, voices… more men… and so she'd made the jump.

It had felt like falling on and sliding down a knife, and she had been unable to keep from shouting as pain blasted through her arm. The next little while was a blur. When she found herself aware again she was running down the street, case strapped to her back and arm cradled against herself along with the thing that had caused the long jagged cut… she couldn't leave anything to chance. Except now her mind was swimming with pain and blood loss, and all it gave as possible soothing was a memory from the night before, hearing her old friends talk about going out to the movies the next day, which was now, which meant… She'd risk it. At this point she had nothing to lose.

All she could hope for was to make it there, to find the place empty, and to patch herself up and clean everything up to leave before they returned. She couldn't drive, somehow she'd have to make it there on foot. That no one saw her, or no one decided to approach the girl dressed in black and bleeding, was either some stroke of luck or a show of carelessness. She wasn't going to start questioning it.

Breaking into the building was the easiest part at this point, as was breaking through the apartment door. Maybe it wasn't the most invisible of intrusions, but she was pressed for time and she could feel her energy depleting. She found the bathroom, put her things down, and she stepped up to the sink. She was so out of it by then that when she'd seen motion in the mirror she hadn't realized it was her, and she'd looked up. That was when she'd seen herself.

She was safe now, she was far away and no one was going to find her… So why cry now?

The first 'job' she'd pulled had been nothing like this. It had been nothing, actually. It had been easy, and it had allowed her to feel good about herself. So she'd kept going, and with every job there came new challenges, only really they were new changes, and as much as they were her choices, and she knew that she was good at this and was getting better, it took seeing herself in that mirror, dark, dishevelled, and bloody, to see how far she'd come, and how lonely she felt. She could make herself smile as convincingly as she wanted, but it took something else to make you smile instead. She'd felt that, for the first time in so long, the previous night, with her old friends…

Old friends who would get back eventually, which meant she needed to be quick about this. She sniffled, wiping at her face with her good arm, leaving a streak of blood on her chin and neck in the process, and she started looking around the foreign bathroom for supplies to try to clean and wrap her arm… somehow. She knew she was growing clumsy, but there was no other way. She couldn't go to a hospital without questions, and her fears returned… She'd been foolish to think she could do this, she had to put a stop to it, she…

She hadn't heard them come in, and at first she had only heard a voice… No, they couldn't have found her, they… Santana, Brittany… they were back, and she had nowhere to go. But it was alright. She was amongst friends. She was safe.

THE END

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><p><strong>AN: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
><strong>**In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
><strong>******always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!******


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